Memento Mori
by Blue Rowan
Summary: What exactly happened to Flynn Rider when he died?


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Tangled and I never will unfortunately. I only own this version of Death and poor Mort.

**A/N: **I blame this all on my evil plot bunnies and shatteredreality. If it wasn't for that review she/he sent me on my last story O' Child of Mine, then this little idea would have never been born. Thanks for the plot bunny!

Basically the review said what would happen to Flynn once he died and what Fate and Death had in store for him. Well, Fate is going to show up in this story but Death defiantly will. XD

So here begins my speculations on what exactly happened to Flynn Rider when he died.

~BR~

Of all the things Flynn Rider, aka Eugene Fitzherbert expected the afterlife to look like; a taxpayer's office was certainly not one of them.

It was a large office and it was almost filled to the brim with different variations of humanity. People of all colors, age, and styles of dress wandered around in various stages of panic, depression, and general confusion. All of these people were squeezed into a small enclosed area away from the main office beyond.

The small area combined with the various states of distress only served to make the group extremely nervous and terrified as time passed.

In fact, the only real sense of calm was among the people near the skeleton playing a piano outside the pen. The skeleton, of all things, was well dressed and had a large mess of black hair that was set off with a small hat.

"_And here I thought Rapunzel was the only one with wild hair," _Flynn thought.

Despite the skeleton's odd fashion sense, he defiantly could play the piano. That hook-handed thug from the Snuggly Duckling would certainly be burning with envy if he could hear the song playing now.

It was a soft lullaby and it was slowly weaved through the crowd, calming those within. Once he saw that everyone had calmed down the skeleton ceased to play and stood up and said, "I'm so glad that you all are soothed by my music. It just warms my little heart. However, I don't have a heart. SKULL JOKE!"

The skeleton proceeded to laugh at his own joke as the people stared in bemusement. The skeleton's laughter abruptly ended when he was suddenly whacked over the head by what looked like a large black staff. The pianist just laughed and wandered away; seemingly unhurt by the generous whack he had just received.

The owner of the staff was…yet another skeleton. Skeletons were apparently normal in this nutjob place. However, compared to the musician, this skeleton was dressed in nothing more than a large black cloak with a hood. The large staff also turned out to be something like a farmer's scythe from back home and taken to the next level, it had to stand taller than most of the people gathered here.

Death, for it could be nobody else, grinned as he surveyed the crowd before him. Well, he gave the general impression of grinning. It really was hard to tell the expression of an individual when said individual had no skin.

"Welcome to Limbo my newly deceased! Yes, you're dead so you might as well get the hysterics out of your systems now." Here Death paused and waited in an almost gracious for the news to sink in.

Flynn felt himself freeze at this frank statement of his death. He couldn't die yet! Rapunzel needed him and he needed her. He had to go back!

So he did what everybody else was doing around him: he panicked. Others around were behaving in a likewise fashion. Some were hugging themselves, others were sobbing, and some were standing stock still because they hadn't completely grasped the situation yet.

Flynn found he favored the curl up the fetal position as his method of coping. Embarrassing? Just a little, but no one noticed him in the general panic. It was oddly therapeutic though.

Death quickly motioned to one of his aides to begin the next part of the introduction process. His trusty aide, Mort, saw the frantic arm waving from his boss and quickly wheeled an enormous gong over in front of the crowd. Then at the appointed signal, Mort rang the gong with all his might.

BBBOOOOONNNNGGGG

Most of the crowd screamed at this new development and some even wet their pants. Flynn, to his everlasting shame, released a whimper and curled up even tighter.

Death used the temporary lull in the chaos and levitated until he was directly over the crowd. "Alright, now that you have that out of your systems, let's get down to business. Those of you that have experienced a death of which there is absolutely no chance that you can be revived, you will step to the left." Death waved a bony arm and a small sign appeared that pointed to the left.

DEAD AS A DOORNAIL was blazoned upon the sign.

"For example, take Tom here," Death motioned for a middle age man dressed in the same fashion as Flynn to step closer so everyone could see him. "Tom here just got beheaded. Tom, I'm sorry, but you ain't walking away from that. Therefore, Tom shall go to the _left_. Understand? Don't worry about wondering where you should go, my assistants shall divide you accordingly. The rest of you will be dealt with shortly," Death paused and gripped his scythe tightly as he surveyed the crowd.

"And ladies and gentleman, let's make this as quick as painless as possible. If you are asked to go to the left then please actually do so. If you don't comply then you will face the nasty part of my scythe and trust me, you don't want that to happen. It's just so messy!" Death finished the last part with an exaggerated shudder and proceeded to do his possible-maybe-grin at the crowd.

His speech done Death beckoned the small group of people that had been standing on the edge of the crowd. The group of employees quickly moved through the crowd and began to separate them.

Death, seeing all was going well, disappeared in a puff of black smoke. He reappeared at the end of the office, where he immediately sat in a massive mahogany desk. Death then took the wooden end of his scythe and began to poke at something unseen in a metal birdcage next to the desk.

Meanwhile, Flynn never felt as happy as he did when Death's assistants wandered by without asking him to head towards the left. Who knew a simple direction could be so evil?

Soon the huge crowd had shrunk to the size of about twenty people or so. They all looked on with a mixture of happiness and apprehension as one of the assistants came to stand in front of them.

"Hello. My name is Mort," the assistant said in one of the most boring voices Flynn had ever heard. "The reason you were not taken with the others is because you all have a chance to be revived. You have this chance because someone on the other side is trying to bring you back. Therefore, my associates and I will be speaking with each of you in order to determine if you actually wish to go back or not. That is all," Mort finished with a bored sigh.

Flynn's breath caught in his throat. Rapunzel was trying to bring him back! Her magic must not have been completely destroyed when he cut her hair. He could go home!

Thinking quickly Flynn rushed up and grabbed Mort's sleeve. Disinterested eyes turned toward him and Mort asked, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I really want to go home so can we get this whole thing done? About now would be good," Flynn replied.

One of Mort's eyebrows raised up at the request but he nodded anyway and motioned Flynn to follow.

Flynn raised an arm in celebration and quickly ran after Mort. Mort led him to a desk and motioned him to sit down on a nearby chair.

"Can I have your name please?" Mort asked in a way that told Flynn that he didn't particularly care.

Some internal debate went on inside Flynn's head but in the end he decided to tell the truth. "My name is Eugene Fitzherbert," he mumbled. It might get him home faster but that didn't mean he liked telling people.

Mort nodded and searched in a what looked like a large metal chest. He pulled out a file with Flynn's actual name on it. He opened the file and Flynn could see his picture on it. He knew it was probably a bit petty but he grabbed the file before Mort could do anything.

"Hey you guys got my nose right! How come you guys can get it right and the royal gurads can't?"

"Talent. Can I have my file back now?"

"Technically it is _my_ file. So, can I keep it? I want to hang it above my bed." Flynn flashed his most charming grin at Mort.

It didn't work. "No, you can't. We own it and right now we temporarily own you. If you want to change that then I suggest you give me a reason to send you home." Mort once again raised a brow at the man before him. It seemed that was the only facial expression he could manage. Besides the constant look of boredom he wore most of the time.

That defiantly killed Flynn's good mood. "You know, I have a horse that would fight you for that claim on ownership. He would probably win too," he muttered rebelliously as he passed back the file.

The only response was yet another eyebrow raise. Couldn't this guy show any other emotion? The frog was more expressive than this guy!

Mort took back the file and causally looked it over, commenting as he did so. "Let me see what we have on you. Occupation: Thief. Your mother must be so proud," Mort droned on while ignoring Flynn's outraged squawk. "Death: Organ failure and massive blood loss due to a stab wound by a dagger. Murder one by Gothel," Mort's eyebrow yet again rose and his eyes widened slightly. "Boss will be interested in this."

Mort reached over and pressed a small red circle that was on the desk. It glowed for a minute before Death appeared in his customary black smoke.

"Done so soon Mort? That has to be a new record for you. And please you don't tell me you fell for the one of those cliché lines we always get. The 'I'm too young to die!', or 'I have so much to live for!', and the ever popular 'I don't wanna die!' that we hear o so many times." Death asked cheekily.

Mort sighed. "No Boss, I didn't. I just wanted you to see something on his fil-."

"Hold that thought Mort," Death interrupted with a frown. "I just realized something. You never got me that latte I asked for earlier! Why does nobody ever listen to me?" Death asked as he gave an obviously false wail and threw he sleeve over his face.

"Sir, I have all of eternity to get you that latte. However, this man does not and I really think you should see this." Mort gestured at the file he still held in his hands.

"Pish posh Mort. Why don't you go get my latte and I will find out why this guy wants to go home." Death answered airily.

Defeated, Mort simply shrugged and stood up. He wandered off, probably to get that latte. Whatever that was.

Death sat down with a loud crash on the chair that Mort and just vacated. He leaned back, placed his hands behind his head, and rested his feet upon the desk. "Hm, not as comfy as my desk. It made of mahogany you know. Best wood in the world. Anyway, why do you want to go back to the land of the living?"

"Well, you see there is a girl named Rapunzel. I really like her and she like me. So I need to get back to her as soon as I can." Flynn answered quickly.

Death nodded sagely, "Ahh so you want to go back to your girl. A bit overused as a reason for returning, but a good reason nonetheless. Huh, Mort must be more of a sap for romance than I thought if he fell for that line so quickly."

"Um, I didn't actually tell him my reason. He said something about Gothel killing me that you would be interested in it," Flynn pointed out timidly.

Death froze and stared at Flynn. Which was creepy to no end. "Did you say Gothel killed you? As in Mother Gothel?" Flynn gave a tentative nod, not sure where this was going.

Death's grin, as if it couldn't possibly be big enough already, widened enormously. "Oh, this is just a perfect end to a perfect day. This is going to piss her off so bad!" Death cackled as he disappeared without warning. His laughter was still echoing when he reappeared.

He held an enormous bird cage effortlessly in his bony arms. It could easily hold ten people within it and have room to spare. Inside was Gothel and unlike the last time Flynn saw her she was incredibly ancient.

Gothel's eyes widened at the sight of Flynn and she flung herself at the bars of her cage. There she desperately tried to claw at him, her eyes narrowed and her face twisted with hate. Despite himself, Flynn leapt back and picked up his chair as a possible weapon. How he wished he had that frying pan right now!

"Now, now, Gothel, you must behave," Death crooned as he used the wooden end of his scythe to shove Gothel into the back of the cage. "Well, that answered my question."

Flynn slowly put down his chair as it seemed Gothel was too out of breath to try and claw out his eyes again. "What question would that be?" he asked warily.

"If I brought you back to life would that make her angry? Ding Ding! We have our answer now don't we?" Death replied smugly.

This reply seemed to give some life back to Gothel and she tried to stand up once again. She attempted to speak but no words would come out. All the sound she could make was a faint rasping noise. It sounded like something a tiny kitten would make. Hardly threatening, coming from the woman responsible for his death.

"That my boy is your ticket home. I can use this for years to piss her off. It will be glorious! Word to the wise kid, don't try and find a way to cheat me. It makes me cranky and I will get you eventually. But you are smarter than that. So see you in about seventy five years or so, provided you don't do something stupid," Death said cheerfully.

He started to grab Flynn's hand but stopped suddenly. "Oh, one more thing. You won't remember any of this. I can't have you telling everybody how cool and wonderful I actually am. It would totally ruin my image. People wouldn't be scared of me and that just won't do."

Flynn nodded, "I can understand that."

Death gave one final smile and took Flynn's hand, "I thought you would."

Then everything faded and the next thing Flynn knew he was staring into Rapunzel's beautiful green eyes. He said her name and she hugged him with tears in her eyes. In the back of his mind he thought he heard a voice saying something, but then Rapunzel was kissing him and the mystery voice was immediately forgotten.

"_Memento vivere kid"_

FIN

A/N: That was actually pretty fun to write. XD Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Now, don't get all religious on me. I wrote this purely for the sake of this fic. You have your version of the afterlife and I have mine. This is just something I made up for poops and giggles. Nothing more.

Notes:

**Title:** Basically it is Latin for "Remember your mortality" or "Remember you shall die".

**The well dressed skeleton playing the piano: **That's Brook from One Piece. He snuck in there somehow. *shrugs*

**Mort:** His name is actually French for Death. Ain't I original? Oh, and imagine him speaking like Ben Stein. Funny guy, but his voice is so very dull.

**Mahogany desk**: Anybody who watches DBZ abridged will get this reference.

**I want to hang it above my bed: **You know he would have. XD

**Death: Organ failure and massive blood loss due to a stab wound by a dagger:** What I can figure he died from. I looked like he got stabbed in the lower back. He probably bled out more than the organ failure but I am just speculating here.

**Murder One: **Just means first degree murder.

**Last line: **Latin for"Reminder of life," "Remember you live," and "Remember that you have to live". Pick which one you like. 

Review please?

Happy Holidays Everyone!


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